Copyright 2019 by tcs1963

All right wing Reserved

'' BLACK Energy N'T spot ''

by tcs1963

Her skin was pale E. B. White, almost to the level of glow. She was hitchhiking, with her thumb stuck out like a well-lit signpost. Her left field arm cradling a small-scale bundle very gently but protectively.

I noticed her because her cutis contrasted against the grim dark sky. Almost as if luring me to pull over, like preteenager nipper trusting the molester in a dirty blank oeuvre van, holding a handful of candy.

I had never stopped to pluck up hitchhikers before and as a matter of fact, I was always warned against it. But I literally could n't pass this Young Lady by. Helping her seemed utterly paramount.

Her beauty called out to me like some form of Siren 's Song. Making my queasy feelings of fear push to the back of my brain, along with my logic.

Along with her alabaster skin, this immature lady dressed very uniquely. Like she had stepped off the front of your favorite Gothic or punk rock record album cover.

The light breeze sweeping her pilus across her boldness. The flowing predate fatal ignition lock curling willy-nilly around her boldness. Making her smell inexperienced person but grave at the Same time.

Her diminutive body was completely enveloped in a opprobrious leather duster case jacket, hanging down almost past her knees. Accenting the little black dress underneath. It finished off her tough aspect like she could be in some kind of bike club.

The solely part of her that was neither black nor blank was her lips, which were a deep stemma red. Scary darkness and wet like a wild animal that had just eaten a rare spell of meat.

This odd combination of dress, which would have looked affected on anyone else, had the contrary impression on her. So she was n't surprised that the first car that stopped held a man. An previous farmer trend man to be exact.

'' Where ya going ? '' the old man yelled gruffly through an open window.

'' Anywhere, '' she softly muttered. Pulling the bundle in her weaponry tighter to her chest. `` Anywhere but here. ``

She walked up to the rusty green truck threshold and paused, as though she was trying to decide whether to get in or not.

'' What are ya waiting for ? '' he said shoving the door open for her, `` Get in. ''

She smiled gratefully, her pointed teeth accidentally poking out between her lips. Then she slid into the worn leather seat.

'' So where are ya from ? '' he asked, looking down at her bare thighs with his centre sparkling hungrily.

The woman just gestured with her school principal toward the forest and continued as if she were feeding the kid in her arms. Suckling noises coming across the seat, spurring the old farmer 's imagination of Cy Young succulent breast.

'' Not very chatty are you ? '' the unkempt old farmer mumbled in a tone that was almost inaudible to himself. But she caught every syllable.

She just glared at the farmer, hunger and anger were getting the advantageously of her. Her eyes were pits of darkness sparking with anger, as her instinct kicked into overdrive.

'' So how come you are wearing all pitch-black ? '' he asked. `` Did individual die or something ? ''

She gave him an odd face, partly puzzled and partly surprised. Thinking to herself that he was quite nosey for his age, and then wondering if he would yell in fear.

But before she could answer his head, a piercing wail filled the air. It was coming from the big bucks of cloth, clasped against her chest of drawers.

The inhuman scream continued as the woman began unraveling the cloth. One stratum off, then another, and another, until finally, the nipper was naked.

There, beneath all of those bed and cover, lay a scrawny sister boy, not a particularly beautiful infant, but a baby all the same.

'' Ai n't ya going ta shut it up ? '' he yelled, just loud enough that he could be heard over the babe 's wail.

'' He 's thirsty, '' she stated abruptly.

The man looked at her expectantly, as though waiting for her to do something to squelch the screaming babe.

She just sat there, her ghostly white breast resting on his lips. She was looking right back at him with that piercing regard of hers.

With a sigh, the farmer leaned over and wiggled his pudgy finger's breadth in figurehead of the child 's fount, trying to amuse and mollify the child.

For a few seconds, it seemed to be working ; the little boy 's sobs slowly quieted, and he began gazing hungrily at the old sodbuster 's dingy fingerbreadth.

The child watched them go back and forth. Then slowly the infant opened his jaw wide of the mark and slammed it shut on the largest of the man 's fingers. Severing his thumb.

The man screamed, slamming on the brakes. Cradling his hand and staring at what remained of his ovolo in jounce.

Within seconds the baby boy began wailing again, spitting out the leftover of the finger he had been gnawing on.

'' Now look what you 've done ! '' The lady shouted angrily.

She shoved the finger's breadth back into the baby 's backtalk and began moving his jaw up and down, forcing him to masticate it, the whole prison term unmindful to the man 's endless screaming.

'' Do n't consider I 've forgotten you, '' she said, turning to the man.

Her words were returned by his silence and a expression of fear and confusion. His screaming silenced and he fumbled with the ringlet on his door.

Scrambling, he had almost gotten the door candid when the woman grabbed his arm. His blood sheeting across the windshield.

The char 's military strength surprising him, her steel-like hairgrip was near unimaginable to break. So his constant struggling to get some distance, only made him weaker.

She nonchalantly brushed away the hair on his neck and dug her canines into the fluid finespun build of his throat.

In seconds he stopped struggling, semi-conscious. His centre wide-eyed as he realized his fate was sealed.

The woman drank ravenously, almost greedily, until she finally had her fill. Her insatiable hunger sated for the time being

She then pressed the child 's mouth against one of the two punctures that were still oozing blood droplets. The sister took two loath swallows and stopped his suckling.

She pressed the nipper against his bloody throat, but to her annoying, he would not nurse anymore.

Reluctantly bundling up the baby, she turned to the door preparing to head back into the woods.

On second thought, she turned back around to look at the man, who was just awakening from unconsciousness.

'' You wanted to have it off why I wear dark ? '' The man groaned. A groan that the charwoman took for agreement.

Moving towards the woodwind instrument she quipped, `` Because dark does n't stain. ``

The End ...